A Fairytale for Wizards

“…!”

Startled, Azriel was about to dodge him, but he grabbed her shoulders to prevent her from doing so. His hands felt chilly as they wrapped around her neck. A strange sensation emanated from his cool touch and permeated her body.

“…Wait?”

“You are fine now.”

When he removed his hands, her coughs stopped completely, as if they had never existed. The congestion inside her lungs had been cleansed as well. Azriel brushed her chest, which felt refreshed.

‘I guess this kind of a thing can be healed with magic too, but he didn’t make an incantation… Did I miss it?’

She was not a wizard, but she knew that wizards made incarnations when they used magic. It was common sense.

“Thank you,” Azriel looked up at the man as she caught her breath. “I received your help again.”

Since she had been helped by him twice already, she needed to pay him back somehow, regardless of his mysterious identity. She had no idea why he was helping her, however.

The man quietly asked Azriel, who was wavering, “Why are you doing this job?”

“It’s because this is my job. But, Mr. Wizard, um… what was your name?”

“I am Rhema Reshith.”

“Oh, okay. I am Azriel. Well, by the way, how did you get here, Reshith? I didn’t hear that we have a guest coming.”

“Please call me Rhema, Azriel.”

“Well, that’s… How can I dare to call a wizard by his name?”

“I don’t feel comfortable being called Reshith by you,” the man frowned slightly. An emotion close to displeasure or shame flashed across his face, causing Azriel to be taken aback. “Rhema will suffice.”

‘He must not like being called by his last name. I read that a wizard’s surname is not their real name but actually a magical name—a spell… Oh, perhaps he doesn’t want other people to utter his spell.’

“Then, Mr. Rhema…”

“I told you,” he seemed stubborn, though his manner of speaking was calm, “Rhema will suffice.”

‘I can see why all wizards are said to be ill-tempered…’

Azriel changed the subject as she could not get used to calling a strange wizard by his first name, “Well, umm, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here? If you are lost, by any chance, I can guide you.”

“I’m not lost. I just came to give you this.”

Rhema held a well-packaged box out towards her.

Even before she took it, Azriel realized what it was. The gold-plated marking at the edge of the box looked familiar. It was the same logo bearing the name of the shop that Deborah’s cherished dress shoes had been purchased from. She wore those only on special occasions. Noble children around Deborah’s age would brag about having such shoes and how they were from a famous boutique in Modjankle, the capital of Aucandor. Azriel found it hard to associate herself with something so precious.

“This is… for me?”

“Your shoes seem very old,” Rhema spoke calmly and handed over the box to a dumbfounded Azriel. Then he agnonized for a while before asking another question, “You said this is your job. Did you choose it on your own?”

“I didn’t choose to do this, but this is what I have to do. But, Mr. Rhema, this is too much. Why would you…?”

“Azriel! Where are you slacking off again?”

The head maid’s sharp voice echoed through the yard. Startled, Azriel pushed the box back toward Rhema and picked up the bucket. It was empty. She would be met with curses if she came back with an empty bucket.

“I’m drawing water, Head Maid!” Azriel hastily grabbed the pump handle and raised her voice in response. “I’ll be there soon!”

“Did you make a new pump to draw from?” the head maid’s frantic voice was drawing closer. “You must have been dozing off, you shrewd girl! You won’t have dinner tonight, either!”

Watching the girl turn pale as she rushed to the pump, Rhema murmured a question, “Would killing that woman interfering with your life be without permission?”

His words were drowned out by the sound of pumping and bucket sloshing with water.

“What did you just say?” Azriel asked. “I didn’t hear you because of the water.”

“…Never mind. That was a question I already had an answer to.”

Hazy agitation spread like a ripple across his steady face. Then, Rhema muttered to himself as he rubbed his face. He seemed slightly embarrassed.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt regret over doing something.”

His disconcerted face made him look like a common person. Azriel stopped pumping and stared at him. There was a sense of deja vu. She seemed to have seen this person and this expression before. When was it…?

“Don’t just stand there gawking! I knew it!”

The head maid came around a hedge and arrived at the pump in a fury. Azriel was horrified at the sight of her and looked back at Rhema. There was no one standing where he had been. He had vanished like an illusion. Instead of a wizard, the package from before was left on the ground in his place.

‘Where did he vanish to? Is this magic? I read that teleportation magic has been long gone for a while now, so how…?’

She had learned about the existence of teleportation magic from a book she had translated into Limble before. It was one of the types of magic that had disappeared during the fall of an older culture. There was little probability she was mistaken since she remembered almost everything she had seen before.

The head maid’s huge hand struck the stunned girl’s head. Azriel flinched and hardly had the chance to scream.

“You! You don’t even pretend to work hard in front of me, now. Why do you even continue to live?” said the head maid.

Expecting to be hit again, Azriel shut her eyes, but she was met with silence. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

“Head Maid?”

The head maid’s arm was raised, but her body was stiff.